Shade Warrior
by SaltDance
Summary: For as long as he could remember, he has always kept his vow.  'Never, ever say who you really are. Survive, and may you find happiness'.        Story- timeline before Mundok brought Hak to the Kouka Kingdom.  ' Who are you, Boy, and what's the story behind that incredible strength ? '
1. The boat on the river

_**Author's notes:**_

 _ **I don't own Akatsuki no Yona. If I did, Yona and Hak would already be married and Yoon and the dragons warriors would be childminders for their children.**_

 _ **Please have mercy on my poor traduction skills please, I'm French and trying my hand at English writing.**_

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 **Chapter 1 : The boat on the river**

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

For as long as he could remember, he has always kept his vow.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

His first memories were blurry, fading between dreams and reality. But sometimes, when he closed his eyes and let the waves wash over his mind, he could picture the small details.

At first, there was the smell of ashes filling his lungs. Then, he could almost feel the fire against his skin, licking at the tents and leaving an orange taint even behind closed eyelids. Sounds of movements everywhere around him made it difficult to hear anything else, but he somehow knew that there were swords clashing against swords, and people screaming in agony in the dead of the night.

And then… nothing. It was like someone had made the whole world mute. The silence became almost deafening. But he could see her. Only her. She was filling all his vision. And he instinctly knew who she was. Her azure eyes -so much like his own- captivated him, drew him away from the tragedy around them. Her lips were moving, murmuring sweet words to reassure him, but he could'nt remember what she said. And even when the tears were sliding down her face, still bleeding with tiny cuts, she smiled only for him.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The memory of that night always faded into another one, but he would never know how much time had passed in between. However, he could see that her smile had grown tired, the cuts on her face were still bleeding, and her eyes had lost a bit of their light. She was securing a blanket around him, her hands faltering around his shoulders, because they were fugitives and she needed to get him out of danger and - _oh, there were enemies coming close_ \- and so little time left now to spend together… A sound of metal against the wooden crates and her head snapped to look up. She had that panicked look on her face, all of her body begging for it to be a dream. But it was a nightmare, and she didn't have any time left. They were coming to the docks.

She looked at him one last time, smiled through teared eyes, and kissed his forehead.

' You have to be strong, Sweetheart. I love you. Remember to never, _ever_ say who you really are, nor where you come from. Survive, and may you find happiness. '

Steps coming closer, and she looked up again. Then, a last glance to where he was hidden.

' I'll always love you, Soron. I hope you'll forgive me for leaving you all alone.'

He felt the boat being pushed down the river when the lights came onto the docks. More hurried steps and screams, some must have belonged to her.

Silence again. He was only three at the time, but he remembered the promise.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

This was the last time he lived in his home in the south mountains of the Kai Empire.

This was the last time he saw his mother.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 **AN** _ **: So, first chapter's all done. If you've read the summary, you know that this story will be dealing with Hak's character before the whole AnY timeline. His past, his encounters with each of the characters, as I imagine it.**_

 _ **I plan to write about all encounters before the AnY timeline, but after that, I'd like to continue with Hak's past and how it could influence the story thus far.**_

 _ **So careful about spoilers ! And please bear with me for the 'that took you soooo long' updates ! Artist's block are NOT forgiving...**_


	2. Streets and treats

_**Author's notes :**_

 _ **I don't own Akatsuki no Yona. If I did, Yona and Hak would transform into animals each time they come in contact with someone of the opposite sex and- wait. I don't own this one either.**_

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 **Chapter 2 : Streets and treats**

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He didn't have much memories of the time when he lived on the streets.

Sure, he wouldn't forget the day when an old couple of peasants found him in the boat that had crushed against their watermill. He thought all of it was a dream, that he just didn't loose all he knew. However it wasn't.

The old couple treated him well though, nursing him back to full health, happy because it had been a long time since they last saw their own children, and a little boy just came down in their life. The woman asked for his name, but was met with silence. He never talked around them, and sometimes he wondered if they had believed him to be mute or too shocked to recover his voice. Far from it, he was just keeping his promise to his mother.

A month passed by before he heard them again. He was helping the old man harvesting corn in the field, when they came to the farm. She went to meet them and asked what they needed, but was stabbed by one of the warriors. Her cry of pain resonated in the field, and in his head. Everything went still except the old man who was running towards her.

 _No_ , he wanted to scream, _don't go ! They'll kill you too !_ He couldn't.

'Run ! Go and hide away ! ' shouted the old man before turning toward his wife. Before meeting his death.

He did. He ran and didn't look back. They were gone and he was all alone again.

* * *

That was when he discovered how people in the Kai empire were living in fear and poverty. He hadn't led a life of luxury, truth be told, but at least he had felt loved and cared about. There, in a town close to Yuu-Kyou -capital of Southern Kai-, all he could feel was contempt and indifference. Ever since Northern Kai was invaded by nomads, people moved to the south, bringing more business for the country, but less food ressources. Southern Kai was gifted with a fertile land, but tensions with Northern Kai and the Kouka Kingdom left it scarred with terror and conflicts.

At the time he was still three year old, almost four, but noone seemed to care that he was living alone without food nor shelter. He was either going to die or get killed. He contemplated death : would it be less tiring ? Would he meet his mother ? And remembered his promise.

He would survive, even if it meant doing dirty deeds. Hence he started to steal.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Truthfully, it wasn't even difficult for him. Sure, he was awfully smart and agile for his age, but it helped that people didn't see him as a suspicious person, thus letting him become quite proficient at his job. He still feared reprisals, consequently keeping a low profile and achieving only small thefts : coins drunkards dropped near a tavern, bits of food lingering on tables, money left in clothes in bath houses ...

* * *

Time passed, making him a year older, until one day he decided it wasn't enough anymore. He needed to get back home, to find out who were the warriors and why did it feel like they were still searching -and killing- for him. And to get information, he would have to make more money. He would grow bolder. He would go for a purse this time.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The streets were crowded like always. Ever since that talk about a treaty with the Kouka Kingdom that would give Southern Kai more territories, merchants and nobles were flooding in town, hoping to get something out of the deal. Strangers too -although he wouldn't be able to tell if they were from Kouka, Northern Kai or elsewhere- kept visiting. The town had gotten more important, its closeness to Yuu-Kyou making it a considerable market road at the time. He would have a lot of choices for his victim.

A grandmother near the butcher caught his attention. She had two children with her – _probably her grandchildren_ , he thought. She was rumaging through her basket to make more place for the chicken she had just bought. At her belt, a round purse seemed full with clinking coins. He breathed in, slowly, and prepared himself. This would be it.

Without anyone noticing, he was already near her, pretending to be looking at the sweet apples of the next stand like any child would do, waiting for the opportunity to snake by and slice her purse off her belt. She began to walk again, directing her grandchildren to the baker this time, and he made his move. Swift, deft hands cut the cord with a rusty knife, small fingers tightly holding the purse to stop the coins for clinking more than they should, and he was on his way again, hoping to get to the shadows before she would notice her loss.

His heart was beating so loudly he was certain everyone in the street had understood his crime, but there was the security of the shadowed alleys he was hurrying to.

' Says Granny, can I get a sweet roll for my birthday ? I never had one before !' said one child.

He stopped.

' That's because we couldn't sell the crops until today ' answered the older one.

His heart that was just racing began tightening. His hand clenched the purse even more.

'That's right sweetheart, but this year will be better, or at least I can offer you two pastries to celebrate your birthdays ' laughed the old woman.

He was already hidden. There was no need to fear. He just had to stay hidden …

She made a move to take her purse.

' I believe this is yours Ma'am. You let it fall just now.'

The grandmother turned her face towards him, surprised, and let her eyes fall onto the purse he was holding out to her.

'Oh ! Oh, yes it is mine ! Thank you, my dear, it is so kind of you to return it ' she exclaimed, and he could distinguish little wrinkles when she gave him a gentle smile. His heart clenched even more.

' I would like to give you something to thank you. Since my grandchildren and I were off to the baker, would you like a sweet roll as well ?' she asked with kind-hearted eyes.

He wanted to disappear and never walk on earth again. He didn't deserve her kindness. He didn't deserve anything. He was a criminal.

' N-no, thank you. I have to go home, my mother is waiting for me', he muttered while turning on his heels. Never a lie had seemed so difficult and horrible to him. He ran.

He didn't notice her somewhat crestfallen face. Shame was all he could see

..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Once again the shadows were surrounding him. His breath was ragged, his palms all sweaty and he wanted nothing more than to curl himself in a ball and cry out. He was tired. He had never thought about the people he stole from, about what they would feel when they discovered what they had lost, and about the pride he had experienced when he succeeded a theft. Now he just felt disgusting. Who was he to be allowed to live off the hard work of others ? Was it the price of survival ? To hate yourself for what you became ?

He didn't like it. He wanted to disappear but at the same time he was afraid of going away without anyone to notice him. Noone would cry for him. Noone would mourn his death. He was still alone, even in the end. He drew his knees close to his body, and buried in head in his arms.

He cried. Alone.

* * *

The sun must have been rising because the black alley was becoming warm and a soft light was tickling his eyelids behind his muddy midnight hair. He thought about staying there all day, moping in a seating form against the garbage can. Maybe it would be better for everyone. If he stayed here and faded off the world.

A shadow loomed above him. With no sun hitting him anymore, cold seeped into his skin. He began to shiver. This was _not_ normal. His eyes snapped open, and his heart started racing again.

Someone was here. And he didn't hear anything.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Looking up with fear tying up his movements, he prepared himself to flee or – in case he didn't have the possibility- to fight for his life. He was so sure to come face to face with one of the warriors, that he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes aknowledged an middle-aged man. He had light brown hair with wise grey eyes, the kind of eyes that had already seen a great deal of life. The clothes he wore were unknown to the boy, who labelled him as someone living outside Kai 's fashion influence. The stranger must have been in his fifties, but the child could sense the concentration and knowledge of an experienced fighter rolling off of him. Did they send mercenaries this time ? Was he a hunter coming to finish off what the warriors started ? How did he track him down ?

Movement caught the youngster's eyes : the stranger was raising a fist. Terror filled his limbs, his heart threatening to burst out every moment now. His mother's words reverberated in his fogged mind : ' _Survive, and may you find happiness_.'

He didn't.

But he wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

He squarred his shoulders, clenched his fists and filled his mind with images of his nightmares, hoping to pass his hatred on to his eyes. Then he sent the man the coldest glare he could manage. The stranger's hand stopped middair, his own eyes widening with surprise. He didn't move, but didn't draw back either.

Suddenly, he was grinning :

' That's a nice look you have there, boy. I like it.'

The child was taken aback, narrowly stopping himself from gaping. _What the ..._ ?

The older man pursued, undaunted :

' I saw what you did with the Granny yesterday. And by 'saw', I mean before the ' _your purse accidentally fell on the floor and I picked it up_ ' thingy, if you know what I mean.'

Shocked would be an understatement of the boy's feelings. He knew his cheeks were flaming up and his once blocked-with-fear legs seemed to obey once more. He took a hasty step back, ready to flight.

At this, the stranger panicked, flailing his arms around while explaining in a rushed voice :

'Ah, wait no ! I didn't mean it like I am going to bring you to the guards, of course not. Well, you _did_ gave her the purse back, afterall .'

That stopped the boy once again.

 _No calling the guards ? That man is definitely weird_ , he thought. However, something in him was attracted to the stranger's antics. He was weird, but also appeared to be honest. The same something in him wanted to trust him. Could he ?

Seeing the youngster waiting for him to continue, the stranger obliged :

'Listen boy. I'd like to know what such a young kid like you is doing on the streets like this. Don't you have any family waiting for you somewhere ?'

No answer. The boy seemed to be gauging him.

'Ah, didn't you say something about your mom ?'

A light gasp, so faint he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't noticed the child's pained gaze.

'… I see. Sorry.'

Back to no reaction whatsoever.

To be honest, he was expecting the stranger to turn back and disappear in the crowd, ignoring him like the others now that he was doing the mute-thing again. What was his surprise when the fist – the same fist that sent him in a panicked state at the start - entered his vision.

' Say, kiddo, do you want a candy ? ' the stranger asked, and with that he opened the fist, a fist that contained two colored sweets.

He couldn't take his eyes off the man's hand. _Was he serious ? Were they poisoned ?_

Maybe he shouldn't eat them...

His stomach grumbled loudly in disagreement, making him blush with shame. The older man seemed surprised, but smiled gently :

' It's okay, boy. I am not the kind of person who would put something bad in such good things.'

The youngster looked up, astonished that his thoughts had been read. He took the candies and wasted no time in eating them. _It was good_ ! _So good_ ! _How can it be so good_ ?

Grinning, the stranger watched the boy devour the treats. Then he carefully put a hand on his shoulder. When there was no flinching on the child's part, he said out loud :

' That's it. I am taking you to my home. There are a lot of children there, we are like a big family. Would you like to become my grandson ?'

The child looked up, taken aback. _What was this weirdo saying ? Becoming a grandson ? Was that even possible ? And where was 'home'_?

Sensing that he needed to explain things, the man pursued :

' I live in the Kouka Kingdom, and I was sent here for diplomatic business. Since I am the chief of my tribe – the Wind tribe -, and because I don't have a son, I can choose my successor by adopting a child of my liking. I just have to ask for the Emperor's agreement, but I wish you would accept to become that child. You're strong and brave, and most of all you have a kind heart.'

He was expectantly looking at him when he finished. The boy didn't know what to do.

 _He ? Did he really have a kind heart ? What about his previous life ?_

He took another step back. He saw the man's shoulders slumping down in disappointment. The words he just said kept ringing in his head. This was the time for a life-changing decision : would he take it ?

 _Did he want to ?_ Well, yes. Without noticing, he had begun trusting this man from Kouka.

 _What of the warriors ?_ Surely they wouldn't search for him in Kouka, yes ?

A queasy feeling was lurking in his mind. They would. And they would do the same that they did with his family, or with the old couple.

' I am hunted ' he finally said in a rough voice, one that hadn't been used often.

The older man lifted his head in a sudden, surprised movement. Apparently, he hadn't thought the boy would talk, let alone to say something _like this_.

' W-what ? ' the stranger cleared his throat. 'What do you mean by ' _hunted_ ' ? Who would want to hunt you ?

The boy stared at the floor, too ashamed to look at that man -who wanted to give him everything – because…

'Sorry. I can't say. I promised.'

The older man stayed quiet, pensive. For a reason he couldn't understand, the youngster felt scared that he would leave him alone again. He continued hurriedly :

' I-it's not that I did something wrong, well _I did steal a lot_ , but… but they're after me for another reason, one that I don't know, a-and Mother said to never say anything and to -'

He stopped, the words blocked in his throat. ' _Survive, and may you find happiness_ '.

It made sense. Finally.

' She said that, so I could forget and move on. She told me to forget about the past so I could live on, without the fear of being striken down by the warriors ' he said slowly, more to himself than to the older man, who kept on listening.

He looked up to the man who noticed him and offered him another life. With blurry eyes and a heart so frightened he thought he wouldn't be able to speak, he finally said :

' I want to become your grandson. To be able to say 'I'm home'. To feel at ease by the side of people who will protect me and whom I'll protect. But that's impossible, because I'll put your tribe – _your family_ – in danger. I don't want harm to come to people who have shown me kindness. Not again. Not anymore.'

The stranger kept silent for a moment, then sighed and put his hand on the boy's head while ruffling the black hair. He smiled – _the smile that sent tears in his eyes, because it was the same as his mother's_ – and said gently :

' Stop worrying, boy. Nothing will harm us. I protect my family, and now you're my grandson. So I'll protect you too.'

Little drops fell to the floor. For the first time, they weren't tears of despair.

This was from hapiness.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 _ **A N : That's it for chapter 2. Hope you liked it ! Please don't hesitate to tell me if I made mistakes.**_

 _ **About the stranger : I know he's not supposed to look like that for a few details, things that are not there (yet), but keep in mind that lots of things are bound to happen with a 'hunted' child…**_

 _ **Thanks for reading !**_


	3. For the sake of a Name

_**Author's notes :**_

 _ **I don't own Akatsuki no Yona. If I did, my neighbour would have me arrested for too much squealing all day. Ah, yeah, sorry… it's already the case.**_

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 **Chapter 3 : For the sake of a name**

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:. 

The road was still long before they would even come near Kuuto, the imperial capital of Kouka. They were able to cross the borders between Kai and Kouka without any difficulty. The boy was expecting it to be false, but the Old man -as he had grown to call him- really was an influential figure of the country. People were coming up to him and greeting him, some even bowing to show their respect.

During their time on the road, they talked about Kouka and what he would need to learn to become the old man's successor : borders, politics, history, geography, treaties, martial arts, … The youngster was even already training since he had to ride horse all day and at the same time dodge the chief of the Wind tribe's strong … _discipline._

Truth be told, he was curious. _What was Kuuto going to be like ? And the Wind tribe ?_ Would he dare say it : _what was his family going to be like ?_ Several days had passed and he grew accustomed to the Old man, but what about the others ?

He _was_ different. At only four, he was smarter, stronger and more mature than the other children. He always thought it was due to his personal history - but one day he would learn that something else had also played a strong role in building who he was.

.:.

Still, the road _sure_ was long.

' Say, Old man, how much time before we reach Koto again ?'

' Kuuto, not Koto. And I told you to call me Grandpa. '

' Yeah, yeah. We are not linked by blood, so I should call you Lord Mundok anyway. Since that's what everyone has been calling you ever since we came here. '

' You have to call me Grandpa, you are my grandson. That's it. And we'll be there in a week.'

' A whole week ?! Are you serious Lord Mundok ? Couldn't we just go to the Wind tribe already ? It's not like we need the approbation of an old geezer anyway…'

The punishment came immediately, in the form of an old paper fan strongly smacking his head.

' I TOLD YOU TO CALL ME GRANDPA ! '

' THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE ANGRY ABOUT ?! I just badmouthed the Emperor !'

* * *

They kept bickering for a while -during which they finally agreed on the term ' _Gramps_ ' instead of Lord Mundok or Old man- , until the conversation settled onto a still sensitive matter.

' Hey Gramps.'

' What is it boy ?'

' About my past… I'm sorry I can't tell you. You gave me so much, yet I can't even…'

Silence fell onto the two riders. Mundok kept watching the child carefully from the corner of his eyes. That boy was so young, and already he was dealing with adult matters. He shouldn't have to worry about a gruesome past when all life was still waiting for him to live it at the fullest. The chief of the Wind tribe sighed and decided that he would do everything he could to give him the childhood he deserved. Even though he knew deep down that one day, his past would catch up with him and then he would have to face it.

' Stop saying you didn't gave me anything. You are my grandson. You gave me everything I hoped for in a long time.'

The child said nothing, but Mundok could feel that he was touched. However, that didn't solve the problem at hand :

' About that though, I can't keep calling you 'Boy' or 'Grandson', even if it would please my ego.'

He glanced at the youngster who had perceptibly tensed.

' Since I think you should put your past behind and begin a life with a name you won't fear telling people, I suggest we pick you a new name. Your name. One you will be proud to bear. What do you think ?'

' I- I don't know. I was never asked. So… I don't know.'

' You don't have anything in mind ? Anything that you'll like ?'

' I ...'

.:.

Understanding that the child was probably at lost – or too shy- to come up with a name of his own, Mundok cleared his throat before a silence could fall upon them again, then stated :

' Well, since I am your grandfather, I am going to name you. You will be from the Wind tribe, successor of Mundok, bearing the Son name. '

The boy was staring at him, a bit impressed by the titles. Mundok felt pride swelling in his chest and kept going :

' A long time ago, there was a talented fighter in our clan, who was as strong as a bear and as clever as a fox. He stricked as fast as the wind, but his heart remained true to the ones he loved and he used his wisdom to protect us all. His name was Hak-Jin. I wish you to have the same name and become an even greater fighter of our clan.'

At this, the youngster scrunched up his nose in a small wince.

'Hak-Jin ? ' he muttered ' that sounds so old-fashioned, I mean seriously ? '

Again, Mundok's discipline was fast to strike :

' YOU UNGRATEFUL GRANDSON ! That was the name of my grandfather ! '

' Oww… okay, okay, I'm sorry ? '

' One okay is more than enough. ' fumed the chief. ' But I do wish for you to surpass him and become a great leader of the Wind tribe. I know you will. Afterall, you're my grandson.'

.:.

The boy seemed to be distracted for a while, and Mundok let him think on his own. Maybe he was searching for a name more to his liking, and he didn't want to interrupt such an important process. Finally, the youngster was the first to break the comfortable silence :

' Hak.'

' What ? ' came Mundok's confused reply.

' Hak-Jin is too complicated to write, and I'm lazy. Since I still have to learn how to write, I wish to keep it simple. So, here : Hak.'

The chief of the Wind tribe was stunned for a moment. _Where did that come from ?_

Sure, that explanation was logical - _too_ logical for a four year old boy, true – but it was surprising that he gave it so much thought. And in the end a choice that still pleased the older man. That boy - _his grandson_ – was amazing.

' What do you think, Gramps ? '

' Hak.' Mundok tried. And he liked how it sounded. 'Son Hak. Grandson of Mundok, and future leader of the Wind tribe'.

He _definitely_ liked it.

' That's it. You are Son Hak. And you are home now.'

Hak smiled. A true, happy smile.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

* * *

 _ **A N : Chapter's 3 all done ! Thanks for reading, and please point out any mistakes !**_

 _ **Finally some names … My head was beginning to ache while thinking 'Will they even know who I'm writing about ? '**_

 _ **\- So Yes, Mundok is the old man (the candies gave him away right ?) and yes, he is way younger than in the AnY timeline. And there are some things missing, I know... don't worry, I'm on it.**_

\- _**Soron was the name Mizuho Kusanagi (mangaka of AnY) planned for Hak at the start. Then she changed it to Hak-jin because it was too similar to Su-Won. And finally it was shortened to Hak. See ? Nothing happens without a reason dear readers …**_


	4. Raising Red Roses

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 **Chapter 4 : Raising Red Roses**

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

* * *

 _ **Author's notes :**_

 _ **I don't own Akatsuki no Yona. If I did, I would kick all the bad guys' ass so we could go on the romance plot between a red-haired princess and her bodyguard.**_

 _ **I swear I would.**_

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

People. People gathering everywhere. Crowding round them. All he could see were blurs of faces and brightful, colored clothes.

 _And the noise_. By the gods, the noise was _awful_.

When he first entered Kuuto, capital of the Kouka Kingdom, Hak would have never imagined that his ears could actually hurt. After only a dozen steps, the young boy could only see and hear what was commonly named ''the busy city heartbeat''.

Blue eyes kept dancing between traders and townpeople, spotting on occasion troubadours and jugglers. He even saw nobles dressed in all their finery, and maidens wearing beautiful attire who were giggling in front of the jeweller's shop window. Children were running and bumping into people, adressing apologies while laughing innocently, before going back to their races and games. Merchants were shouting how amazing their goods were, trying with all their might to be the loudest in the street, and neighbouring shopkeepers replied in kind.

Scrunching up his nose in discomfort, the boy did his best not to just cover his ears, and kept following his companion. He looked up at the older man who seemed perfectly at ease in the middle of the crowd. Mundok's face was radiant, contentment written all over his features, with his kind smile and wise eyes sparkling in amusement. Seeing that he was the only one annoyed with the city surroundings, Hak sighed deeply and stuck to the way the Wind tribe's chief was going on.

However, the blue eyed boy couldn't help but be filled with wonder, for it was the first time he actually walked in such a busy town. Yuu-Kyou had been a big city, but nowhere near what Kuuto was. The atmosphere, the people, even the buildings appeared somewhat different, making it hard to stay irritated because of the noise. Hak had never heard so much sounds, and for the first time, he was feeling _truly alive_. No fear of the Black Soldiers who were tracking him down, no fear of being beaten up for stealing food, no fear of talking to strangers… the young boy smiled to himself : he had Lord Mundok to thank for this name and this new life.

A wave of gratitude washed over him and he looked at the chief one more time. Sensing his grandson's stare, the elder turned around, asking silently what was wrong. Hak kept smiling, while shaking his head to reassure him, and quickened his pace to catch up with his grandfather :

' Say Gramps, what's going on here ? '

' What do you mean ? ' Mundok asked, a bit confused.

' Well, something must be happening in town. I mean, _it is_ a big town, the biggest I've ever been to in fact, but I feel like there is an enthusiasm that appears only during important events… '

Mundok carefully watched the boy for a moment, then broke a smile :

' I see, so you noticed, huh ? I was thinking that maybe you were too young to sense it, but it would seem I was mistaken. You are _awfully_ and _amazingly_ perceptive for your age. '

' Hey ! I'm almost five, you know !' Hak replied, somewhat outraged.

' I said ' _amazingly_ ', did I not ? '

' You also said ' _awfully_ '. Being young does not mean I'm deaf, old man.'

' It is Gramps to you.'

' You still haven't answered', Hak insisted with a mischievous laugh.

' That is true. In a week there will be a festival to honour the queen, for it will be her birthday. Everyone has been working hard to prepare the festivities. We will stay until then and help as well.'

' The queen ? I thought old people didn't like to celebrate their birthday … feeling even older.'

The paper fan strucked as fast as a whip.

' Impolite grandson of mine ! The queen is nowhere near being old !'

' Ow, ow ! That's abusing children, Gramps !'

Under his playful smile, Mundok grew serious. Hak was really impressive at such a young age : the way he moved, talked, even thought were too sophisticated for an ordinary four year old boy. The middle aged man had seen his stealth skills while he was in Yuu-Kyou, and assumed they came from a hard life spent on the streets. But at the time, the agility the boy had mastered and the speed coming with each of his movements had impressed the Wind tribe's chief. Yet, there was even more to the blue eyed boy, that Mundok was only beginning to see. Intuition, perception, and a sharpness that were rare, even among adults. He would only be sure once he could start training him in the art of fighting, but the elder somehow knew that Hak would be an incredible warrior, trusting him to act instinctively and with frightening speed.

The Wind tribe's chief sighed. It could prove difficult to ask the emperor for Hak's adoption in his family. Emperor Il was known for being a bit carefree, but he took his responsabilities at heart, and he could become wary of his grandson. Mundok understood that the knowledge of a complete stranger – moreover being 'hunted', like Hak said about himself- being sheltered in Kouka could endanger the country itself.

He glanced fondly at the dark black hair of the child, and knew he was still ready to protect him with his life. _Come what may_ , thought the elder, _we will face it together._

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The imperial palace was huge. _How can someone use so many rooms in one lifetime ?_ Hak thought, wonder written all over his face. And those were just public rooms. Meaning there had to be more, hidden further back in the palace, that were built so the emperor and his family could eat, bathe, sleep...well, live. The youngster had a hard time depicting all the uses of the rooms in this palace, while focusing on the number of guards and nobles they had come across since they entered the royal grounds. People bowed to his grandfather, occasionally calling him ''General Mundok''.

Fortunately, he had listened to the old man's lectures, and had learned that the generals were pillars of the military strength. _To think that Gramps would be one of them..._ Mundok's serious voice brought him back to earth :

' Stay close to me, Hak. Do not leave my side unless you are told to by his majesty. And if so, do not wander around to cause trouble. '

Hak nodded firmly. It was a bit intimidating to hear Mundok's solemn speech, but he could understand the reasons : even if he now trusted the old man to become his grandfather, the emperor still had to decide if this would happen. Being disrespectful or behaving suspiciously could change his decision for the worst. The blue eyed boy suddenly was in a cold sweat : _what if he said no ? Would he have to return to Kai ? Would they warn the Black Soldiers ?_

He silently shivered and shake his head to get rid of frightening thoughts. Mundok's hand came on his shoulder and squeezed it gently :

' Do not worry. I trust the emperor to see what I saw in you the day we met. He will not refuse you.'

Young clenched fists relaxed, and the boy felt better. He stared at the big wooden doors, then glanced at his grandfather once more. Sensing the silent question, the elder answered :

' We have arrived. Let us wait until they ask for us.'

Just as he finished explaining, a servant opened the doors while announcing them. Hak took a deep breath, and followed Mundok in the huge throne hall.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 _I would never be able to live there_ , Hak thought as he wandered around.

There were guards fighting each other in a small yard, with tiny whirlwinds made of sand and dust swirling with each swipe of a sword or a spear. Faces were running with sweat, and the otherwise silent air was now filled with battle cries and exhausted breathing.

The boy sighed. His feet led him to what seemed to be the training grounds of the imperial army. And to think that he had hoped to find a quiet place where he could wait peacefully for the old man. Frowning, he then thought about why he was currently searching for such a thing in the first place.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The throne hall had not just seemed huge. It was filled with luxuriuous tapestries and delicate potteries decorated with gold ink and gemstones. Hak even saw a huge painting in a remote corner of the room. The incongruity of the scenery caught his attention.

The painting depicted a prisoner wearing a long red cloak tied to a wooden pole on a small platform. At its base, a crowd was looking. Some people with black clothes seemed afraid of something, while the others, wearing lighter colors, looked like they were feeling guilt and remorse. A man with a white coat – _a priest_ \- was crying and presenting a golden necklace to the prisoner.

 _Weird taste_ , he thought while blue eyes scanned the painting. _Who would want to display a public execution ? What is it with the strange atmosphere ?_

Unease began creeping up his spine. Odd, disturbing as it was, he couldn't help being mesmerized by the painting. And then his sight caught details.

What he had mistaken for a red cloak was in fact hair. Long, wavy red hair, as red as blood could be. The prisoner was a man, and he directed his face to the sky. Hak followed the prisoner's eyes direction to find out that there were four dragons flying at the top of the painting : a blue one was crying, while a white one was almost invisible, concealed by the clouds. He couldn't precisely make out the colors of the other two, for they were obscured by shadows.

He was tempted to go over that corner and study the painting, but Mundok's voice brought him back to his senses : they were nearing the throne, shadowed by the hanging draperies.

' Your Majesty, I am back from my travel to Yuu-Kyou. I bring news from the meeting, along with peace treaties that may be of interest for our kingdom.'

The general hesitated a bit, then added with a softer tone :

'I also bring to you my grandson and succesor, Son Hak.'

A man moved on the throne. At first, he said nothing. But then, he stood up and approached the pair, stepping in the light.

 _Bubbly._ That was the only world that came up in Hak's mind.

The king's face was rounded, a bit like a chubby baby, and his eyes creased with a good-natured smile. His hands folded behind his back, the child couldn't see his feet because of the royal coat - or maybe because the king was just short. This person didn't look intimidating at all, and the boy was wondering if such a weak aura could really be fit to rule an empire.

'If I knew I would see the day when Lord Mundok would have a grandchild. Please, tell me more about yourself, young one.'

 _His voice is just as bubbly as his looks._ _How can it even sound bubbly?_ Hak looked from the king to the Wind tribe's chief, searching for an answer as to how to reply. Mundok nodded, but the stare in his eyes was guarded. _The truth, but not all of it, then._

' I came from Kai. I was living in the streets of Yuu-Kyou when Lord Mundok found me. If not for him, I probably would be starving or freezing to death. I owe him my life, and with all my respect, I would like to repay my debt by serving him and this country ', he finished while bowing deeply and waiting for the emperor's reaction.

And then ...

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Hak kicked a stone who had the awful fate of finding itself on his way. And then ?

And then nothing. He had waited, still bowing, and the silence grew longer with each second. When he had thought he couldn't bear it anymore and had begun straightening up, the emperor's words had echoed in the huge hall :

' I shall discuss about the meeting's report with Lord Mundok, and I won't forget about your request. I will take in consideration the fact that you wish to express your gratitude to my general. For the time being, you are free to visit the imperial grounds until I send someone to fetch you.'

And surely, there he was, on the imperial training grounds, waiting for someone to bring him back to the throne hall. Of course he understood that politics were adult matters -and confidential ones, in that case-, but that did not mean he wouldn't feel frustrated by being left aside.

Hak sighed again, wondering if that would make him grow old faster, since only adults seemed to sigh. The thought of his request being denied frightened him. He would have to go back to Kai, but then the Black Soldiers were probably already on his tail. He didn't mentioned them to the emperor, however it was certain he would find out sooner or later. His chances of staying with the old man were sliming down by the minute. The more they learned about him, the more they would want to lead him away from the country.

The guards were starting to notice him. Some interrupted their training and looked at him while revealing sneering smiles. They probably were thinking he was admiring them and was envious of their rank.

 _Idiots_ , the black-haired boy thought with a frown, _if you believe I wish to become a royal dog like yourselves, you're far beyond all hope. What kind of soldiers abandon their training because of a child anyway… your focus level is way too low._ With that, he turned back and decided to follow another path. Maybe even take a quick nap…

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 _Steps. Coming closer. Hide, hurry, and stay silent !_

A blue eyed boy with black hair, his breathing broken by all the running he just made. Concealing himself behind the tapestries of a hallway. Soldiers approaching fast, alerted by the noise.

Hak mentally berated himself. What had he be _thinking_ ? Since when broking a rich decorative vase, and then running away like a thief, was ever considered a _good idea_ ?! No wonder why there were now guards searching for him in the palace. He could have stayed, explained that it was an accident because he triped on the carpet -what in the world was a carpet for, anyway ? He had never seen one before-, and maybe, maybe they would let him get away with it.

The thought of having to pay for it, or because he couldn't, of making Lord Mundok pay for it, drove him to the conclusion that he had to flee before getting caught. Thus, finding himself in this predicament, he was beginning to regret it. Now, his chance of staying with the Wind tribe in Kouka was completely destroyed.

 _But if they don't find you, they won't know_ … whispered a sneaky voice in the back of his head. The little boy knew it was not that wise to follow that thought, but he had not found a better idea. Consequently, listening to the noise to find out the soldiers were going farther away from him, he took a deep breath and made a run for the door at the end of the hallway.

He barely had time to register where he had thrown himself, and plunged to his right, just behind a stone block of some sort. His eyes squinted shut and waited.

Until a fresh smell of grass and something more perfumed reached his nose. Blue orbs opened and confirmed what his nose had guessed : _the gardens_.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Those gardens were not like the ones Hak had seen when they first entered the castle in the morning. These ones appeared more private, smaller in size and with plants from a different species. In fact, only one kind of flower could be found here : one that the child did not know of, nor how it was called.

They came in several colors, some white, others pink, or yellow, but the most impressive and beautiful ones sported a fiery red color. He approached the bushes of red flowers while raising an arm to touch the scarlet petals, and gasped at how soft they felt, almost like some kind of delicate velvet. His hand followed the line of its petals, going down to the green calyx and taking the stem between his fingers…

A sharp pain briefly struck him : he took his fingers back to stare at tiny scarlet petals covering them and dripping from his hand… dripping ? He frowned while bringing them to his face for closer inspection and smelled something metallic… blood. Gazing back to the red flower, he quickly found out what caused him to feel pain and to be bleeding : on the length of the stem, hidden by leaves, several thorns could be seen.

The blue-eyed boy stared for a moment then a smile appeared on his face : small, beautiful, but dangerous. What an amazing flower…

Suddenly, a deafening sound exploded from inside the hall he had just fled from and Hak's head snapped towards the door. It sounded like a big metallic thing falling and crashing on the ground. No more thinking of flowers, his heart beating so loudly he was afraid someone might hear, he took several steps back without looking. In his haste, he failed to notice the movement behind him and bumped into something hard…

'K-kya !'

... into someone ?

Stumbling to catch himself, he briefly made out a shape made of red, white and pink, all blurred together in the fall. The smell of the flowers, stronger than before, brought him back to his senses, and he quickly got up while opening his eyes.

Azure met purple and he forgot everything.

* * *

It was weird. It was a girl. So tiny and clumsy, Hak immediately knew he would always do his best to help her.

Thus when she struggled to get up, he naturally squatted beside her, took her thin fingers in his palms and brought her up with him.

When she looked up at him with those shiny purple eyes, like two amethysts staring back at him, he felt some weird tickling in his belly while blood was flooding in his head, almost making him spin. Realising he was still hloding her handds, he quickly let go and forced a smile to reassure her, confusion pressing in his mind: _what's wrong with me ? Did I get hit somewhere when I fell ?_

But when those little eyes teared up, he did not know what to do. Panic submerged him, and he quickly bowed, flustered :

' S-sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to hurt you ! ' he said in a rushed voice. ' I didn't want to scare you, I just got lost in such a big place… Are you alright ?'

However, no answer came, so Hak raised his head : the girl was gazing at him, somewhat a bit calmer, but still frightened and probably hurt from the fall. The boy took that opportunity to search for injuries and to observe her : there was nothing alarming, only some scratches. Her pink and white dress had a few tears in it, but otherwise she was fine. She seemed young, perhaps one or two years younger than him. Her skin headed toward pale cream, almost ivory. She had freckles, so light he knew he could only see them because he was standing so close. Too close, perhaps…

Regaining control of his wandering thoughts, he stepped back. That was when he noticed her hair. How did he not notice ? It was red, a oddly familiar red - but why would it feel familiar ?-, like the same scarlet flower he hold not so long ago. In fact, she just reminded him of that flower : so small, so beautiful, yet deep down something was whispering to him that one day she would be just as dangerous, using her thorns to defend and protect.

The girl noticed him staring at her hair and shamefully tried to hide it by putting her tiny hands on it.  
Hak did not understand : _why was she hiding from him ? Was she hurt ?_

'Did you hit your head ? Does it hurt ?' the black-haired boy asked, concern filling him.

She shook her head.

'Then… what's wrong ?' he insisted. That was weird. He was feeling concern for someone he did not even know, yet he could not help wanting to get closer to her.

She timidly looked back at him the purple eyes sent shivers to his spine. Hak was not sure if they were bad or good shivers though. And then she spoke, in a soft crystalline voice :

'It's ugly. My hair…'

'What ? ' the young boy said, surprised. ' How can it be ugly ? I mean, it seems clean at least' .

The girl glared at him as if he had stated scandalous words.

'That's not what I meant ! People don't have red hair, it does not exist !' she exclaimed.

So… she had a hot temper, quick to flare. _Funny,_ Hak thought, and immediately thought it was weird to find it funny. _What was wrong with him today ?_

He cleared his throat : the girl was obviously waiting for an answer, however he did not grasp how her hair would be ugly just because it was unique.

' Well,' he started a bit hesitantly, 'Sure, I've never heard of red hair before.'

Her shoulders seemed to slump down and her head dropped a little. He went on with a more assured tone :

'But then again it doesn't relate to beauty. Just because it's uncommon, it isn't bound to be ugly. So what ? People don't like it ? You don't have to listen to them. I do like it though ', he added with a flustered face.

The red-haired girl stared at him with her lips trembling.

'R-really ?' she asked in a shaky tone, still unsure .

'Of course. Look, ' he said while pointing to the bushes of red flowers, ' even thoses flowers have got red on them. So it's fine for you too, right ?'

'Are you saying I am a rose ?'

'A what ?'

'A rose. The flower. You don't know how it is called ?'

Hak took in that new knowledge. So the beautiful flower was named a rose… It was a nice feeling to learn something. He gazed back at the purple orbs.

' I didn't. Thank you for telling me. They are pretty. The roses.'

For some reason, the little girl smiled and a slight blush covered her cheeks. _Cute…_

Hak vehemently shook his head. Again, something was wrong with his head. He listened to the girl talk once more :

'My name is Yona. Who are you ?'

'Hak.'

This time, it felt natural to tell this name. He was growing attached to it. He smiled.

' That's a weird name.'

The smile dropped. The nerve of that little girl -Yona, he recalled...

' But it's un-uncomm'. She struggled a bit with the word before saying it with a huge smile :

'It's uncommon like my hair, so I like it ! Hak said I am a pretty rose ! Let's play again sometimes !'

With that, she ran through the back gate, while the blue eyed boy stayed there, dumbfounded. _Just when did I say... ? Whatever…_

He sighed, but his smile couldn't seem to fade away, even if the girl with the purple eyes and red hair - _Yona_ – was already gone. She really was strange, not calling out for help when a stranger came into her gardens… Immediately recalling the reason he was in the gardens in the first place, he grew serious all of a sudden and decided to go back to the throne hall before they could find him there.

He turned back, raised a hand to the door handle and… saw it opening before he could reach it.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 _ **A N :And done ! Sorry it took so long to update, but I was having a rough time at work, and I couldn't concentrate on that story. My apologies, I hope you liked the chapter anyways !  
**_

 _ **Well, well, hopefully this chapter gave you an idea about how Yona and Hak could have met ? And yes. The queen is alive . I can't wait to write about her ! I will write more about their bond in the next chapters, so please bear the wait with me !**_

 _ **A more peaceful tempo going on there, but it won't last long *wink wink* . The king and Mundok have to discuss serious matters about Hak, and we are bond to learn a bit more about this little kid in the next chapter.** **  
**_

 _ **And do not hesitate to point out any mistakes, for my poorly english skills still haven't improved. Sadly.**_

 _ **See you !**_


End file.
